Jonathan
Brandis: Continuing the Ideal of the Beautiful Boy

By Michael C. Walker, Oasis Science Editor

Film and television have throughout the late twentieth century
continued many traditions established by the more long-standing art
forms of the theater and the visual arts. However, as media of
greater intensity and certainly greater immediacy than their
predecessors, film and television have magnified and exploited these
traditions to a point that they often glow and radiate with a near
over-saturation of sorts. A prime example is how film -- especially
in the past few decades -- has treated the tradition of the beautiful
boy which has existed in the western arts since at least ancient
Greek art. From the Greeks to Italy of the Renaissance and beyond, we
see an idolization and exaltation of the physical form of the male
youth, yet only in later art and especially in literature and drama
do we begin to see such a representation of the persona and emotions
of these boys as well as their physical characteristics. Contemporary
film and television have taken this to another level: the showing of
the beautiful boy as a soul with an intellect. Reflecting back to the
idea of the "capable boy" as presented in the novels of such writers
as Horatio Aliger, we are now in as diverse dramas as Star Trek:
the Next Generation and Wild America presented with youth
who field us their physical, emotive, and intellectual selves openly
and decisively.

Young actors come and go, primarily because youth comes and passes
quickly, leaving the adolescent heart-throb in a new territory, often
without his established roles and his loyal audience waiting and
watching his every move. Some young male actors do indeed triumph
over this obstacle and progress to successful and lasting careers as
adult stars, but many --too many, perhaps-- fall by the wayside. Time
has not yet proven which of the above may be true for Jonathan
Brandis, but I suspect despite a recent lull in his movie
appearances, it will be the latter and not the former. At least this
is my earnest hope in the matter, because Brandis has already
contributed greatly to film and television as art forms and it would
seem that these industries -- as industries -- owe him something in
return. Brandis, though not as well-known as his contemporary,
Leonardo DiCaprio, has given film and television something most
unique for these media: androgyny and unrepentant youth well-tempered
with high intelligence, but more than anything, the ability to let
the dreamers dream.

Brandis is perhaps best known for his role as Lucas in the
television series Sea Quest DSV, although he starred in a
number of movies prior to being cast in that series. His character of
Lucas was a child genius aboard the naval research vessel, Sea
Quest; the only non-military character among those of the first
season of the series. The notion of an adolescent prodigy
--especially a computer-orient "whiz-kid" such as Brandis' Lucas--
was not new, but Brandis treated his character with both a realism
and material strength absent from many such characters. Perhaps the
closest character in comparison would have been Wil Wheaton's Wesley
Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation, although Wheaton's
character lacked two essential traits displayed by Brandis: overt
sexuality and close ties to the adolescent experience of present day
America. Although Sea Quest was set in the future (instead of
the early 1990s, when the show initially aired), it was not as far
into the future as that future of Star Trek, allowing more
reality into the script, thus more believability and probably a
stronger rapport with viewers.

Jonathan Brandis' Lucas didn't (until the last season of the show,
when many changes were made in NBC's desperate attempt to raise
ratings) wear a uniform, but instead wore casual clothing
non-descript enough to be plausible as garb of the future while also
conforming to the oversized styles popular among teens in the early
1990s. He was a computer geek who was no kind of nerd, who had hair
and blue eyes to die for instead of a buzz cut and Coke-bottle
glasses. Brandis made science cool for his young audience; he made
science sexy. Most importantly, he embodied a sense of wonder, a
sense of untold possibility. He was the personification of the
future: a youngster on the cusp of discovering all sorts of amazing
new things, holding the technology and the know-how to get the most
out of it right in his hands. Like Donatello's statue of David
(and Michelangelo's more famous take on the same subject matter)
Brandis also stood ready --figuratively, at least-- to strike a deft
blow for humanity, for goodness, via the prowess of his youthfulness.
This is not to say that Brandis appeared larger-than-life and in
total control of every situation; on the contrary, his Lucas was
often in perilous circumstances with little in the way of resolve,
but much in the way of hope and ingenuity. His strength was never
physical so much as mental, perhaps vocal and therefore emotional.
When grabbed as captive by a villain, he yells "damn you" defiantly,
rousing the attention of another crew-member of the Sea Quest.
In this sense, in his typically non-violent but still confrontational
response to adversity, Brandis embodied more the traits of classic
film heroines than heroes, adding credence to his visual
androgyny.

When, in the final season, Lucas is commissioned as a naval
officer and wears a uniform in accordance with his new rank, he seems
expectedly older, more manly. Yet this was something of an
anti-climax, not what many fans probably wanted to see as his
persona. Like Leonardo DiCaprio's Jack in Titanic, much of
Brandis' appeal rested on his being more boy than man yet functioning
effectively (and in dire circumstances) in a man's world. As the only
teenager routinely featured on Sea Quest, Brandis occupied an
unique spot in the gender and age-based hierarchy of the submarine he
inhabited. Not a fully grown man, not a woman, he was boy but
the only boy and therefore a separate sex of sorts from his fellow
cast-members. Though always portrayed as heterosexual, there is no
doubt that many of the implications of Lucas' status on-board a
naval/research submarine would suggest homosexuality. Aside from all
the long-standing jokes about sailors and the cramped quarters of
submarines, there was the radiance of Brandis himself, and his
somewhat feminine appearance and demeanor. The legions of teenage
girls who may well have made up Sea Quest's largest single
demographic audience were probably just as attracted to the fact that
they could see some of themselves in Brandis as they were in viewing
him as dream date material. No one could blame them for this, Brandis
was a positive role model and one who showed the real perils of teen
life, who displayed teen angst with a daring and conviction that was
at the same time both over-the-top and still very true to reality.
The character of Lucas was a little too far removed from everyday
life to view as a real person expect for the fact that the show
itself encouraged a most willing suspension of disbelief. I would
dare say that Brandis --as Lucas-- did something that only the rarest
of all celebrities manages to accomplish: he became a living mythical
being because his aura and physical appearance were enough to seem
larger than life; maybe even outside or aside from our expectations
of real life.

Critics of Sea Quest DSV have often cited the show's
redundancy and reliance on high-tech special effects over innovative
plot material as its main failings, and to some extent these critics
may well have been right in their appraisal of the show. Brandis,
however, served the show well and was praised by many of the same
critics who denounced the overall execution of the show. The same can
be said of Brandis' film roles in the movies Lady Bugs and
Sidekicks. Unfortunately, following Sea Quest's
cancellation, Brandis seemed to receive second-rate movie roles,
falling short of the caliber of roles through which he could have
achieved greater critical and popular acclaim. Just why such is the
case may be a secret forever locked in the minds of Brandis and his
agents. Immediately after leaving Sea Quest, Brandis also
changed his physical appearance to some degree, cutting his mane of
dark blond hair short, changing its color to a reddish-brown, and
growing a subtle beard. Brandis' desire to move on to more serious,
adult, roles is admirable, but the flip side of this coin is that he
would no longer be able to play the roles he had made famous as a
teen actor and would not carry such as immense star appeal, with his
teen audience who were moving on to younger heart-throbs such as
Devon Sawa, the constantly everywhere DiCaprio, or fresh faces the
likes of James Van Der Beek.

Yet as much of an impresario as DiCaprio may have become, Brandis
seems to hold an elusive quality that Leonardo may never possess. As
I stated before, Brandis always seemed so accessible while still
being so far from our reach not because of who he was but because of
the tinge of "difference" --even of artifice-- that accompanied his
genuineness. In Ladybugs he played a boy with an amazing skill
in soccer who was recruited to play --in drag-- on an all-girls team.
A teen heart-throb in drag, even in a comedic role? By the nature of
this role, he was separated, made inaccessible, unable to completely
participate in all the activities of the other characters --such as
when he (under the assumption he is a she) is invited to a
girl's slumber party. In Sea Quest DSV, Lucas' intellect and
difference in age from the other crew members aboard the submarine
set Brandis apart. The amazing thing is Brandis' acting, even his
very persona, which allows a viewer to enjoy him and feel at ease
with him no matter how ludicrous the role he is playing may seem. We
appreciate Brandis as Brandis and not Brandis for becoming a
believable facsimile of someone else. Certainly other actors are
capable of this, but few of Brandis' young age.

Jonathan Brandis has expressed a serious interest in directing and
writing for film, even to the point of possibly devoting his career
to these pursuits over acting. He wrote one episode for Sea
Quest, which actually was one of the best and most intriguing
shows of the entire series. In Brandis, I believe we do find as much
an originator as an interpreter, and therefore, as much --or more--
of a director than an actor. Brandis brings exuberance, youth, in
fact even something best described as health to the world of
the silver screen; he makes television or the film new and wonderful
again because he is so charming and enchanting to watch. He is over
the top in his performance --some critics claim that his acting seems
forced and that he "tries too hard"-- yet he is subtle --even
sublime-- in his presence; there is always something slightly more
than real while less than imagined about Brandis. Instead of being
larger than life, he is simply out of the scope of our expectations
for life, or at least what we have learned to expect from film. His
beauty is enough to sate us when buttressed with his earnestness, his
energy and emotivness. This sort of beauty, and the extension of
beauty from being a purely physical form to something experienced as
a totality, can only be found in the performing arts or in
literature, and only when there is sufficient repertoire (in this
case, Brandis' movie appearances and the continuum of Sea Quest
DSV) to establish the persona of the beauty over a sequential
--and thus realistic-- period of time. Brandis did this, and when
allowed, his work as an actor and cultural icon can continue to do
this for us.